A stripper, too much to drink and a lot of insecurity going on...
Marlene was sexy as hell and a real girl and dressed like a stripper, she said she was a ‘nurse’s aid’ but I thought that was bullshit. And I was right.
Anyway she got to talking and it was the usual stuff straight girls who are curious about trannies talk about. It was all ‘where did you get your shoes’ and ‘where do you shop’ and what lipstick is that. The usual banal small talk. Tranny’s are suckers for compliments. Remember that, it could be useful information.
Then she started buying the dinks and after a few cosmopolitans it was all ‘you have great legs’ and ‘I wish I had a figure like’ that and ‘I wish I was that tall’ and ‘you have a great ass’ and I could tell where this was going.
The question was did I want to go there?
After a few more drinks the conversation started to get interesting.
I was figuring what the hell, I mean if I was a straight guy I’d want to do her and then there was the buzz of the co** and the drinks and the music and she made me feel gorgeous and she was warm and I was freezing and I’m a slut, so what the hell do you expect me to do?
I’m not gay, or whatever, I mean I’m not into girls but get me drunk and high enough and I’m like ‘whatever’ and I was and so I thought ‘why not?’
So we started making out. Which was probably not a good idea in the middle of the Taxi Club but if I worried about what people in the Taxi Club thought of me I’d be an idiot. Maybe it was good for my reputation to be seen making out with a stripper in the smoking room or maybe it just made me look like a cheap drunk tranny slut, but as I said I don’t care.
So an hour later we’re at my place and naked and fooling around and I’m enjoying it. Which really took me by surprise.
Is this what a $500 hooker does to a guy? Is this what it’s like to be a guy? So weird. So many questions. Its ahead fu**.
Rewind for a second... ok, I think I’m bi-sexual.
I‘ve fooled around with girls a bit and it’s been fun, usually some guy’s watching or paying to watch what’s going on so there’s an audience and it’s usually part of a game – you know, a tranny and a girl making out but it’s the guy we’re really both interested in doing and the faux lesbian thing is just a game to raise the temperature of the room. So I’ve gone there, a lot. But tonight I went there because of her.
It’s like a straight man’s fantasy, but there's no straight man in the room. Just me and this stripper chick and a bottle of wine and all the time in the world.
So we get to talking, serious talking, about who we are and the stuff you talk about after sex and I learned that she’s a hooker. Not a regular hooker, but an expensive one. Trust me, I can tell, I’ve seen a lot of hookers, and to look at Marlene you know she’s up the pay scale. I believed her.
Plus I know what things cost. I have a professional interest.
So there you go.
It was kind of a compliment if you know what I mean. There’s this expensive hooker and she’s doing me for free and telling me she wants to do it again and I know she will because we’re both sluts and this was fun.
I’m also terribly cripplingly insecure – so this wall all fabulous for my fragile tranny ego which need a painful amount of reassurance about how attractive I am. I hate that and confessed that to her as well. She gives me this big smile and says ‘I know honey’.
But that’s trannies for you. We have sex, not because we actually like the guy, but because we want to fee attractive. We need to know. We’ve got problems. Well, I do at least.
But Marlene. Was she playing me? Does she know this about me? And was knowing this and working my insecurity her game plan for getting me naked.
Do I even really care? I don’t know. Ask me when I’m not hung over.
So now its three days later and I’m still thinking about her and wanting to call her but won’t because that would be too easy.
She will call me.
Anyway, so I’m thinking about it and asking myself what the fu** is going on?
Why is everything so complicated.
Am I really bisexual or is this all part of my insecurity? Is it? Let me know and I’ll owe you a drink.
X
Lavinia.





